


Risking the Unusual

by Corycides



Series: 100 Fics in 100 Days [40]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was over. Or, at least, that's what everyone kept saying</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risking the Unusual

It was over.

People kept saying that.

Charlie stood on the roof of Independence Hall – one more little 'fuck you' to Monroe – and stared down over the city. The wind caught her hair, tugging tawny strands loose from her braid. It didn't feel over. Not to her. Maybe it never would. Nothing that happened tonight would change what she'd lost, who she'd become.

Something flickered in the distance, like glass reflecting flame, and then light poured across the landscape like a wave. Charlie closed her eyes as it reached Philadelphia, as if the flare of light might actually hit her in the face. It glowed through her eyelids, pink and veined, and the city screamed.

Charlie opened her eyes, her heart hitching brutally against her ribs, and let herself be overwhelmed. Just for a minute. She was alone – it was ok not to be a Matheson, just for a minute. The overdose of ... _everything_...hit her like a shove, making her tremble on the edge like she might fall. Or cry.

There was no time for that. It was only a minute. Charlie took a deep breath of damp air and sorted through the kaleidoscope of stimulus. Lights, she remembered. They just hadn't seemed so bright when she was little. The sound was rusty old sirens and alarms, squalling warnings 20 years past being relevant. Some screams, too – joy, shock and panic all mixed together.

And the lights might have come back on, but the dead hadn't risen. So really, what had changed?

Once she had everything under control, and anything that wasn't tucked securely down away from her face, Charlie went back inside. Her boots scuffed over the stone floors as she strode back downstairs, snapping orders as she went.

'Get people out on the streets, get them seen,' she said, collaring a shell-shocked looking clot of rebels. 'Let people know its under control.'

'Find a way to turn those alarms off,' she ordered some refurbished militia boys. They were all on the same side now (although the day Charlie would trust Monroe, was the day she slit his throat), but people in the streets still had a hard-wired reaction to the brand and the uniform. Best to keep them off public relations. 'Before they put all our heads away.'

Everyone scattered to do what they told. They looked relieved. Charlie missed that sometimes. She had to tell herself what to do; it made it a damn sight harder to believe she knew what she was doing.

Rachel's new lab was in the suite she'd spent four years imprisoned. She said she wasn't going to forget the place, so she might as well make better memories. Besides, the light was good. Charlie paused outside for a second, trying to relax her shoulders and look softer and more...whatever it was Rachel thought she should be.

It wasn't easy. The Charlie that Rachel based all her ideas on had been 11 years old, and that had been a long time ago.

She let herself into the lab. Rachel said it was just an illusion, but Charlie swore she could feel the energy in the room. It itched under her skin, prickling the hairs on her arms. Flynn stood stiff-backed and arrogant by the window – like he was there by choice and not because he was shackled to the wall.

Rachel was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head tilted back against a table-leg. Her eyes were closed and her face was drawn with exhaustion and triumph.

'Mom?'

Blue eyes popped open and Rachel smiled, a huge, open grin that lit up her face. Just for a second all the awkwardness and distance of too many years evaporated, and Charlie actually wanted to hug her.

'It's done,' Rachel said. 'It's over, Charlie. I fixed it.'

Chains rattled as Randall turned, contempt curling over his face. 'Done?' he said, shaking his head. 'Mrs Matheson, you have no idea what you just _started_.'

And Charlie felt a flicker of relief, because she'd no idea how to live in the world she'd been born into.

  
  



End file.
